


The Cat

by ZombieCyborgAssassin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, I still hope you like it, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, So many others - Freeform, my brain is a weird place, not necessarily canon, please it held my original fantasy novel hostage, possible ooc, this has been bothering me so I had to write it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14142207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieCyborgAssassin/pseuds/ZombieCyborgAssassin
Summary: When the curse was broken, not everyone cared to be freed. That is, until there was reason to change ones mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.  
> I have had this story bothering me and keeping my original fantasy hostage until it was written. so here it is.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Catherine stood on the tree branch looking down at The Hatter and The Grace as they walked from The Beauty’s library, her cocoa-coloured ears flickering back and forth on top of her head trying to catch their words.

They looked happy today; sometimes they didn't. Sometimes The Hatter had a bad day and The Grace was left to worry over The Hatter and try to help him remember that she was there with him. Catherine imagined losing your head and having two sets of memories at the same time might do that to you if you were normal. Well, normal compared to her life. Her mind had been long gone before the curse took hold.

Her heeled boots balanced unnaturally as she walked the length of the branch, bending at the waist looking down to try to see what books they borrowed today. She couldn't see much, but she decided to take a couple steps out on to thin air, stepping along the footpath ten feet from the ground, to look over The Grace’s shoulder to see if she could get a better view. All she could see was something about Japan.

The grin on her face never moved as she watched The Hatter and The Grace step into The Granny’s building, presumably for food.

She stepped down to the ground, as though walking down stairs, and rearranging her many skirts she sat crisscross in the middle of the table out the front of the diner. She shifted herself so she could watch The Hatter and The Grace sit and order food in the back of the building.

“You know, this isn't healthy.” A warm fatherly voice said from behind her.

She didn't jump, she never jumped, not only did it take the fun out of it for The Rumple, but she could feel his dark magic brushing against her skin like an itchy wool sweater from blocks away.

She continued to watch as The Hatter and The Grace chatted in their cozy little booth.

“Lots of things aren't healthy,” she smirked, and let out a snicker, “like seeing and talking to people that aren't there.”

She finally tore her eyes off the two in the diner and looked at The Rumple. He stood beside the table in a thick coat and scarf leaning heavily on a cane It was something she still found hard to adjust to. Seeing her friend physically weak, unable to jump around energetically, scales gleaming, as he was want to do. Such a silly little thing to struggle to accept when so much else has happened that she was able to accept with the ease of breathing. She let out another hissing chuckle at herself.

Long accustomed to her unexplained outbursts of laughter, he merely raised an eyebrow. “It's not that you aren't there, it's merely that you are not corporeal, my dear. The others haven't the skill or power to see you as I do.”

She lifted her shoulder demurely, her brown tail waving lazily behind her, and turned back to look into the window of the diner. Her unnaturally keen eyesight picking up on the books now laid out on the table between them. She gave a giggle and sat up straighter, her tail swishing happily behind her.

“I should have known! Japanese Tea Ceremony.” She leaned her elbows against nothing and propped her chin on her hands. She gave him a sly look from the corner of her eye. “I don't imagine they’ll enjoy it as much as they think they might.”

He gave her a impish look in return, “Perhaps, Dearie, you ought to go warn them, then.”

Her grin didn't leave her face, but it did drop a little and disappear from her eyes. She pointedly tossed her tangled mass of curls over her shoulder and looked back into the diner’s window, ignoring his suggestion. The Rumple had tried to convince her to show herself to the people of the town since the curse was broken. However, she wasn't interested in joining the townspeople. She liked remaining unseen. Had for centuries before the curse brought her to Storybrooke.

The She Wolf was waiting on The Hatter and The Grace, setting cups (no doubt tea) on the table between them. The She Wolf popped a hip and smiled, asking a question, probably asking if there was anything more they wanted and then she swished her hips as she stepped away from the table.

Catherine narrowed her eyes and with a flick of her wrist, The She Wolf’s tiny skirt caught on the back of a chair and ripped the seam right up the side to her hip.

Catherine chuckled as she watched The She Wolf flush with embarrassment and clutch at the ripped seam. The Rumple chuckled, too, though it was obvious that it wasn't at The She Wolf’s misfortune.

“Rumple? What are you doing out here?” Catherine’s eyes found The Rumple’s and she smiled as she watched her friends face light up at the sound of his True Love’s voice.

“Waiting for you, My Dear.” he said smoothly, holding his elbow out to her in offering.

She watched as The Rumple and The Beauty entered the diner and sat with The Snow Princess and The Charming Prince and their little son. Her eyes slid back to The Hatter and The Grace, as they always did, and she remained sat on the table unaffected and unseen in the falling snow, watching as they continued to have a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!
> 
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Ch2

 

Today was not a good day. Today was in fact, a rather bad day.

In the middle of the night, The Hatter had woken with a scream, waking both The Grace and Catherine from their sleep.

Catherine, who had spent the whole duration of the curse in a spare room of the mansion, was used to this. Incorporeal, she left no evidence that she was there, but she did what she had to to watch over The Hatter.

Catherine and The Grace had made their way to The Hatters room, to find him pulling on clothing and muttering to himself. She knew, as did The Grace by this point, that he was headed to the hat room to attempt to make more hats. He was trying to go back, but only because he’d somehow forgot that he didn't need to go back. His reason to go back was already here in his house.

She watched tiredly as The Grace made futile attempts to get The Hatters attention, to remind him that she stood right there and he didn't need to worry about the hat. But he wasn't in any frame of mind to understand fully what was happening.

The Grace didn't go back to sleep, so Catherine stayed awake, watching over them as always.

It was now late morning, and The Grace was walking into town to pick up lunch for her father and herself after a long morning of hats, teas and biscuits and biscuits, teas and hats. Catherine laughed to herself as she skipped and danced on the moving air currents.

Nearly seventeen, The Grace was perfectly safe at this point to walk to town alone, but Catherine always followed her to be sure she was safe. The Hatters happiness depended on The Amazing Grace.

She gave a flick of her fingers and the traffic was just right for The Grace to move across the road without pause to quickly get into The Granny’s and out of the cold. Normally avoidant of crowded places, she usually stayed outside, but deciding that she was interested in what foods The Hatter and The Grace were enjoying these days, Catherine entered the diner behind The Grace.

She kept her feet on the floor (or as close to it as she could) and followed the girl to the counter. Her head and ears swivelled left to right as she took in the multitude of smells and sounds. She listened absently as The Grace ordered food from The Granny, never bothered by any of the patrons that stepped through her.

She grinned almost maniacally and waved excitedly as one face acknowledged her, The Rumple merely rolling his eyes at the gesture.

A quick glance at The Grace told her that she had the time, so she bounced across the room, through a couple of people, and curtsied deeply at The Rumple where he sat.

It was game to her to try to distract him as he dined with his family. She never ever succeeded, but it was such fun to try.

Today he was with The Beauty, The Swan Princess who held a baby in her arms, The Snow Princess who was feeding her toddling son and The Charming Prince.

“Why, good day to you, Rumplestiltskin.” her simpering tone spoiled by her mischievous grin.

He raised his eyebrow at her condescendingly and turned his eyes back to the group at the table, making no indication to the others that she was even there.

A chuckle escaped her as she climbed nonexistent stairs to stand on his table. “Oh Dark One, doest thou wish to ravage The Beauty as much as I?”  The Rumple tensed, but nothing more. “She has such delectable looking breasts, you _do_ know, Cats love milk don't you?” his jaw clenched and she fell backwards onto nothing and laughed until she had a stitch in her side.

When she was calm, she rolled over to lean her face to his. “It’s quite a good thing that she is not my type, then isn’t it, Rumple?”

He heaved a great weary sigh.

“Are you okay?” The Beauty placed a hand on his arm, leaning in to allow for privacy.

He gave her a crooked smile, “Yes, Dearie, just a slight headache.”

Sitting herself on air as though sitting in a chair, Catherine snickered, “Hello, I’m The Headache, you must be The Missus.” She pulled her air-chair up to the table.

Rumples eyes rolled with enough force that she was certain that they were not fully attached properly. She mused that with all the dark magic he played with over the years, perhaps they weren't.

“Sorry I’m late, Love, I didn’t know how to make the phone thing shut up.”

Catherine turned to the voice and stared as The Brother, or at least, someone that she thinks looks an awful lot like The Brother, sat down next to The Swan Princess, plucked the baby out of her arms, and kissed them both.

She stared open mouthed. She knew she wasn't able to rely on her memories with the way her mind was, the _age_ she was. But she was nearly perfectly certain that the man that sat beside her talking softly to a newborn was her brother. The one that she had failed to escape Wonderland to get back to. The one she had learned and mastered chaos magic to try to return to. She never did escape Wonderland, not until the curse, but she knew after the first hundred years that there was no point, he’d have died. She had mourned him. She still mourned him.

Yet here he sat, making goo goo eyes at The Swan Princess.

She looked over at The Rumple, a high hysterical laugh bubbled out of her mouth. “Today is a bad day,” The Rumple frowned minutely, fully aware of her preoccupation with caring for The Hatter, “It started in the early hours of night.Perhaps I’ve simply not slept enough and am imagining things.”

She caught the slight questioning look from The Rumple. She sighed, glancing over at The Grace, who was quietly chatting to one of her classmates about homework.

Leaning into The Rumples space, she gave a short self deprecating chortle. “I imagine this sounds entirely mad, though anything I say usually does, but I could swear on the magic that has seeped into my bones that _that_ man is my brother.” Watching The Rumples eyebrows slide up his forehead, she settled back into her imaginary chair. “Though that is entirely bonkers, as I know that my brother would be long dead by now.”

His eyes flickered around the table, bounced between the man and her before The Rumple startled her by leaning forward and speaking to her, in front of the others, his eyes on the man. “Humour me, and tell me, Dearie, what’s his name, hmm?”

She opened her mouth, but two voices came out, when she said, “Killian Jones.”

Her head swung around to see The Swan Princess, who had also spoken, was giving The Rumple an odd look, adding, “You know this. You feeling alright there, Gold?”

Catherine squeaked. Then she squeaked again.

Her eyes bounced from The Brother, now confirmed living after six hundred years, and The Rumple, who had a smug look on his face.

“Surely you have reason to be seen now, Dearie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
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	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

CH3

A nervous titter escaped her lips as her flashing eyes, ever changing vibrant colours, bounced from The Rumple to The Brother and back again.

“Who are you talking to, Rumple?” The Snow Princess asked, her attention pulling away from the toddler that was mashing his fist fulls of banana.

With a satisfied smile, The Rumple sat back arms crossed, while looking from The Brother to Catherine.

“You can’t tell them, they’ll think you’re mad as a hatter!” she guffawed, her tail flicking behind her like a flag caught in a gale. Her glossy fur developing a noticeable iridescence, an ever-moving oil slick of fuchsia, indigo, rose, mulberry, glinting in the fluorescent light, reflected by the fur on her ears.

The side of his mouth twitched at the joke. “Not if you show yourself, they won’t.” He countered, ignoring the concerned looks from the people at the table, and the warning signs of Catherine’s anger.

She leaned toward him, as though to keep her words private, ignoring the knowledge that they already were. “If I show myself, who shall watch over The Hatter and his Grace? Where shall I live?” his annoyance twitched across his face before disappearing. “He can’t know I’m here, you know this. It will end badly.”

The Rumple leaned forward, watching her “You shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch, Dearie.”

“What is this all about, Gold.” The Swan Princess was getting agitated, not understanding something was annoying her. Too serious, that one.

Catherine gave a giggle, “Oh, Miss Swan, don’t you know? I count chickens!”

The Rumple rolled his possibly detached eyes again, “This, Miss Swan, is a little matter between a dear friend of mine and myself.”

“Friends, are we?” Catherine gave a sharp mocking laugh at the man.

He rolled his shoulders, irritation evident on his face. “Yes, friends,” he forcefully pointed his fingers at her, “A friend who has had quite enough of seeing you like this.”

“Gold?” The warning tone in The Brothers voice had a ripple of shock running through Catherine and tears stinging her eyes. It brought back into focus long skewed and faded memories of stealing from his plate and threatening to tell their mother of his mischief.

Victory surged in The Rumple’s eyes as he took in her reaction, he turned to The Brother. “Tell me, _Killian Jones_ ,” sarcasm curled around The Brothers name like choking vines as he looked Catherine in the eye, “Do you have any siblings?”

The Brother went still as a board, The Swan Princess put a hand on his shoulder as he looks down at the baby in his arms. “I did have a sister,” the words were spoken quietly and the silence at the table gave the words more weight.

Catherine couldn’t take her eyes of The Brother, she wanted to reach out and take the sadness from him and let him live without it. But she was already aware that there was no such magic to take someone else’s pain away, to keep it for them, she had tried after all.

The Rumple, unphased by The Brothers pain, gave a titter himself. “And what was your sisters name, perchance?”

Catherine’s ever-present grin turned mean, as she watched The Rumple dig the proverbial knife deeper into The Brother. “You must watch where you step, Rumpelstiltskin, you have never tread this path with me.” a murmur of laughter, much like a growl, erupted from the back of her throat.

The Brother had finally opened his mouth to speak, but The Rumple cut him off. “Don't you threaten me, Dearie, we’ve had it off before now, and we both know that neither will win and everyone here will be injured.” His eyes flicked to The Brother and the baby in his arms, and then to The Grace at the counter. It was then that Catherine realised that the rest of the diner was watching The Rumple talk with seemingly no one.

The Rumple leaned toward The Brother, snapping his fingers. “Out with it, boy, what was her name?”

The Brother blinked, “Uh, Catherine, her name was Catherine Jones.”

The Snow Princess gasped and cooed, clutching her hands to her chest. Her eyes, along with most people at the table, had looked to the baby in his arms.

The Rumple looked to be beside himself, like he’d won a prize. The others actions clicked and Catherine realised that The Brother must have named the baby, _his daughter_ , after her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the babe in The Brothers arms.

“Ah, yes, I see.” The Rumple nodded, unable to sit still, as though he was meaning to jump around in glee. “She must have meant a lot to you then if you were to name your child after her, hmm?” his eyes never left Catherine as he poked and prodded at their wounds like the embers of a fire.

“ _Who are you talking to,_ Rumpelstiltskin?” It seemed to Catherine that The Beauty seemed to recognise his behaviour as being somewhat concerning, and was trying to gauge how much damage was being done.

Then she felt it. It was the moment between breathing out and breathing in. Like time had paused _just_ long enough, air heavy in anticipation, waiting for her to remember the thing that she shouldn't have forgotten, but remembering was difficult. It was the magic of life reminding her to live for the sake of living, that she was still alive too.

She blinked as the moment sank into her skin.

She locked eyes with The Rumple. “There are consequences to these actions that you _will_ be helping me with as they come, Rumple.”

The Rumples eyes rolled again, “Now you’re getting it, Dearie,” he leaned in towards her and raised his brows, “ _friends._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, check out my other fics and my website in my profile.  
> comments and kudos feed my muse.
> 
>  
> 
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> Instagram - [@Kitty_Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kitty_kat_henshaw/)
> 
> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
> 
> Facebook - [Katherine Henshaw Author](https://www.facebook.com/KatherineHenshawAuthor/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.  
> Debut Novel 'Once Upon A ...What?' coming soon.

CH4

She squinted her eyes at The Rumple. “No one can know I’m The Cat from Wonderland. If they do, it will get back to The Hatter, and we can't have that. You know things will be bad.”

The Rumple nodded his head and pursed his lips. She paid no mind to his mouth holding back something he wanted to say. If he wanted to say something, then he ought just to say it.

She took a deep breath and focused on the part of herself that had changed since The Brother had last seen her. From reflecting light rays to allowing them to pass through her, and back again. She altered herself so that everything but her ears and tail could be seen. Making sure that it wasn't done one limb at a time, as she had done in the past. She knew the tales of her vanishing and reappearing had made their way to The Hatter and to the non-magical realm that Storybrooke is situated in.

A collection of gasps was her first clue that she’d been successful in making herself seen. She looked down at her pasty white hands, almost transparent after so long without sunlight hitting it. She ran them over her head to make sure that her ears haven't made their way through. Then she twisted around to check the tail wasn't seen poking out of her navy and periwinkle striped skirts and a giggle bubbled out. 

“Cat?” The Brother breathed. 

She turned her head to look at The Brother. He was paler than he was moments ago. When The Swan Princess plucked the baby from his arms, he barely noticed.

He jumped up from his seat and wrapped his arms around her. He smelled of salt water and baby powder, it made Catherine smile as she buried her face into his neck and basked in the odd smell. 

He held her by the shoulders and leaned back a little to let his eyes roam her, just as hers did. He had a hook for a hand. Making him Captain Hook, meaning that he had been in Neverland fighting Peter Pan. And if her memory serves, The Rumple had had an altercation with The Hook fellow and he often joked that he took his hand. 

She pointedly flicked her eyes from The Brother’s hook to The Rumple. “Did you say sorry?”

The Rumple opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Pardon?” 

“Well, I imagine that bridges have been mended if you are sitting and eating at a table with Killian, so I imagine that it happened with you out maneuvering a direct apology. Am I right?” She looked over at Killian for an answer. 

The Brother looked to The Swan Princess, clearly trying to decide if this conversation was actually happening, she got that all the time, she chuckled. The Brother snapped out of his daze and replied. “Uh, no he didn't.”

She nodded, plopping her chin on her hand and her elbow into thin air. “So predictable, Rumpelstiltskin. Have you never noticed that you don't accept responsibility? It’s not healthy, you know.”

The Rumple was rolling his shoulders, and looking between Catherine, The Beauty and The Brother. 

She leaned in. “Just say you’re sorry so I can meet my niece.”

The Rumple sucked on the back of his teeth before looking off to the side and offered a quick, “I’m sorry I cut off your hand.”

The Brother was looking at her with suspicion and awe so Catherine simply smiled at him as they sat back down.

The Swan Princess cut through the standoff, “How long have you known Gold?” 

Catherine looked to her with a grin, such a logical person. Needs to know the facts. Too serious. What does that say about The Brother? Does she have a private romantic nature perhaps? Is her cynical attitude a mirror of his own? Catherine shrugged and laughed. “It depends on how you experience time. How long is a piece of string? Are we talking about adding all the minutes and hours spent together? How long he's known me? How long I’ve known him? Which realms time frames are we talking about?”

The Swan Princess blinked. “Well, how long have  _ you  _ known him?” 

Catherine tilted her head, the question still unclear. She seemed to soften toward The Brother and they very clearly loved each other. Devoted. She chucked. 

The Swan Princess sighed. “In your time wherever you were, how long have you known Rumpelstiltskin?” 

Catherine nodded her head, understanding a bit more of what was being asked. “Hmm, well, with my own body’s timeline, close to 558 years.”

There was a pause. Then.

“Where the bloody hell were you that you’ve been alive for 558 years?” The Brother demanded. 

Catherine gave a cheeky giggle. “No, no. Not 558 years, you see, alive for 629 years to this body’s timeline. And where is irrelevant. Everything exists all at once layered upon itself vibrating at different frequencies and time is an illusion.” 

The table and the people nearest stared at her blankly. She looked around, then to The Rumple with a little unsure smile. “Did I speak English or Cantonese. That happens sometimes…” 

The Rumple leaned back in his chair. “No, Dear, you spoke English, these people just haven't the understanding of reality that people such as ourselves have.”

Catherine tilted her head, thinking about the last time she’d spoken to someone other than the Rumple. It was a guard in the Red Queen's castle, outside the room where The Hatter was being kept. Was it the 9 of hearts or the 6 of hearts? She suppose it depended if she was the right way up that day. She giggled. 

“Why does she keep laughing?” The Brother asked The Rumple. His face was etched with concern, and his eyes were caught on something of Catherine’s. She blinked and looked down and saw what he was seeing; tangled waist length hair and a tattered dress. 

“She’s laughing because life is a funny thing and if you cannot laugh, why bother?” She grinned, subtly indicating her irritation at being spoken about as though she weren't there, even if she always wasn't there mere moments ago. 

Ignoring his chagrin, she lifted a hand and waved it over her dress and hair. Her hair changed to silken golden blonde hair, wavy rather than ringlets this time, and though the dress style didn’t change, it was still a Victorian number with a bustle that she had adored on a couple of the lost girls in Wonderland, the colours did change from navy and periwinkle to emerald and silver grey. She shook her head and waved her hand again and the colours changed again. This time muted Lavender and Indigo. She smiled. 

“You- uh- you’re blonde now.” The Brother was squinting at the hair as though it were offending him. 

“Oh yes, you’ve never seen me blonde have you.” She shrugged with a chuckle and waved her hands over her hair again. Auburn? No. She waved again concentrating on a specific long forgotten look. It was the same shade as The Brothers now, which she  _ thinks _ might have been its original colour, and reached to her waist where it curled at the ends. 

“Ah! There we are.” She beamed at the Brother, who just stared at her. 

“You’re also sitting on nothing.” He replied. She looked down at the space below her behind.

Shrugging, she looked to the other people at the table. The rest of the diner was silent too. When Catherine looked around she saw that The Grace was no longer there. “Oh! Oh Dear! I need to go now.”

The Brother was alarmed by this, leaping up from his seat when Catherine jumped up from her non-seat. “What!? Why!? you just got here! I thought you were dead!”

She looked back at him. “I thought you were dead, too.” 

He huffed in frustration “So why do you have to go? Why can't you stay? I searched for you for years!” 

Catherine smiled warmly to the Brother. “And I tried everything to get back home. Today is a bad day.” She ignored The Rumples frown and went on, cutting him off before he voiced his objections. “Perhaps if tomorrow is a good day, I might pop by and visit.” She laughed at herself. She didn't exactly pop anywhere. That would require teleportation, she couldn’t teleport. She tried. 

Giving a deep bow, Catherine vanished into thin air all in one go. 

She tried not to lose her grin as she rushed out of The Grannies diner and catch up to The Grace, who it seems had been delayed by the traffic. Catherine gave herself, as only she could see it anyway, a sardonic grin and flicked her wrist at the traffic for The Grace to cross. She then followed the young woman home and set about making sure The Hatter’s day got better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> Instagram - [@Kitty_Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kitty_kat_henshaw/)
> 
> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
> 
> Facebook - [Katherine Henshaw Author](https://www.facebook.com/KatherineHenshawAuthor/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.  
> Debut Novel Coming Soon.

CH5

Today was a really good day. The Hatter had slept in, likely to make up for his lack in sleep the day before. Catherine had crept unnecessarily through the house and saw that The Grace was sleeping in, and The Hatter was curled up sleeping deeply. It was a sound sleep. She could tell, if it wasn’t, he tended to have a wrinkle between his brows and sometimes he might even sob. The days he slept soundly were almost a perfect day for The Hatter and the Grace. 

She went down stairs and checked that they had everything they needed for the day, she also hid the library book for the Japanese Tea Ceremony, she wanted to be there to see the wonderful disaster that they made of it. 

She checked the clock and realised that calling on The Brother at 7am might be too early. It had been a long time since she had had to observe social etiquette, but she was reasonably sure that if someone came to visit  _ her _ at 7am, she couldn't be held accountable for her actions.

She flicked her wrist and gave the house a little bit of a dust. She’d known all along that The Hatter’s mind was too focused on other things than to worry about house cleanliness and maintenance. He believed the house was charmed to self-clean, that's what he told The Grace when she finally moved in once the curse was broken. Catherine allowed them to believe so. If it eased his burdens, then why not. She then gave the floor a sweep. The dirt and grime showing up in a random location somewhere in Storybrooke. Once it had landed on the counter at Rumples store and he’d given her an earful. 

She chortled to herself remembering his ire. 

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, she saw The Hatter, eyes hooded from sleep and a crease on his cheek from his pillowcase, and her heart clenched. 

He looked well rested and at peace. He hardly ever looked at peace and it was all Catherine ever wished for him. He’d seen enough, he’d experienced enough. With The Grace home with him, this should have been his peace. Instead he still had nightmares and moments of confusion. Torture did horrid things to people’s minds. Sometimes just living is a terrible torture in its own right, if Catherine were honest with herself. Sometimes she wasn't honest with herself, just to amuse herself. She got bored so easily. 

He padded into the kitchen in odd socks and put the kettle on to boil, his usually well-kept hair in a disarray from sleep. She held back from squishing his cheeks. It was hard, but she’d had years of practice. Even back when he was a smug portal jumper that collected things so that The Rumple might try to find his son, Catherine had to keep herself from squishing The Hatters cheeks. He was so full of vitality and mischief, it drew her in. 

He poured himself a tea and sat at the counter, seemingly caught in his own mind. He usually was. She oft wondered about the wonderful, horrible, marvelous things that went on in his head. She knew she’ll never know, though. 

She flicked her wrist, shutting off the stove top that he’d absentmindedly left on, and took one last look at him before double checking that the house was all in order. Once The Grace was awake, she had no reason to stick around. Today was a good day after all. 

As soon as she left the house through the closed front door, she began the walk into town. She didn't want to feel the cold, so she stayed invisible. 

She dawdled as best she could, so by the time she got to the main street in town, it was closer to 8am. 

She didn't know where The Brother and His Swan Princess lived, and she generally did her best to avoid The Rumples awful morning moods, so she wandered to the Grannies Diner and sat in a tree branch across the street. It gave her the chance to see the people who came and went. 

She sat and watched absently as the people came and went, drinking coffee in takeaway cups, rugged up from the cold morning wind, and she pondered the changes of the last couple of days. 

Frowning she realised that she didn't exactly know what it was that The Rumple meant by the term ‘Friend.’ Did he mean acquaintance or a close friend? What stipulations did he apply to the term ‘friend’? The generic kind? Or perhaps he had his own definition of friendship. It seemed likely that The Rumple would have his own definition, not to mention that she had to know what her own expectations should be. So Catherine decided it was best if she were to research  _ all  _ the current definitions so that she was prepared for what he might mean. It would not do to make assumptions, it had been so long since she’d had a friend, and she didn't want to misstep. 

Climbing down from the tree, she stepped along the footpath and stood out the front of The Beauty’s Library. If Catherine thought back with enough effort, she could recall a time that she thinks she might have spent hours and hours in a place like this. Books were a place one lost themselves by choice, Wonderland was a place where you lost yourself without a say. 

Deciding that the best way to do her research would be corporeal, she blinked into existence, making sure her tail and ears remained unseen, and opened the door.

The smell of books sent her eyes rolling into her head, and a delighted sigh escaped her. What was her reasoning for not entering this place again? It was difficult to remember why she forgot her love of books. 

She stepped through the door, past the front desk where Catherine absently acknowledged the stare from The Beauty, and made her way down the aisles. Fiction, what is fiction? Fictitious. False. Lies. Catherine frowned at the title able the books. All lies hold an element of truth, the ones that are believable do, anyway. And for the story to be good enough to be published and purchased for a library for such a small town, the lies must be very believable. Therefore, the section was labeled incorrectly. She looked around at the other titles. Perhaps it was only the most fitting term for the title, she couldn't imagine ‘Cleverly Written Lies’ would make the section entirely palatable. 

She wandered through the other sections, blinking at the section Non-fiction. Why not just call them Truth, rather than Not Lies? Children's stories. Why was there a whole section on the lives of children? Catherine knew that if she were lucky enough to have a relationship with her namesake, she should think about learning about the lives of children. 

She mentally noted the location of the Children’s section and kept looking. World, which world? Classics, classics of this decade? This century? Presumably this realm at least. Reference. Catherine’s smile grew. Atlas, History, Languages; French, German, Spanish. Geography, Dictionary. She pondered that the dictionary would have the definition of friendship, but it would be broad and over simplified. She doubted she’d find anything about friendship in any of the other books in this section. 

Sighing, she tilted her head to look at The Beauty over the top of the racks. she was still staring at her, but looked away quickly, making sure to look like she hadn't stared at her the whole time. Catherine didn't understand why she would want to hide the fact that she was curious about Her Rumples newly discovered friend. Catherine imagined that it might have caused her some insecurities or maybe anger or jealousy. Deciding that the best information source in the Library on what The Rumple might mean by ‘friends’ was actually the woman running it, Catherine weaved her way through the aisles and stood at the counter, waiting patiently for The Beauty to stop pretending to be busy and talk to her. 

She looked up and pretended to look shocked. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn't see you there.” 

Catherine’s smile became a grin, perhaps The Rumple was becoming a better person because of the love of a person so honest she couldn't lie to save herself. 

“I get that a lot,” Catherine giggled to herself. 

The Beauty’s face flickered with confusion, and then understanding before she tilted her head. “Is there something I can help you with? A book you were looking for perhaps?”

Catherine nodded, “Yes, it seems that I need to brush up on my definition of ‘friendship’ and after looking around, I realised that there were an array of meanings to the term.” She tilted her head at the petite brunette. “I thought perhaps  _ you _ would be a better reference to explain to me what Rumple may mean, and maybe you could explain what it is I might expect. You know better than most that Rumpelstiltskin will bend definitions if given the chance.”

The Beauty looked a little stunned before understanding dawned and a sly look took over her face. “Oh yes. I do know what you mean.” She looked around the library. “I’m due for a break, would you like to sit down for some tea?”

Catherine’s grin disappeared instantly, “No. No tea for me. Never tea for me.” she remembered times of sitting above the Hatters tea parties, never invited, never welcomed. His anger at her a living thing.

The Beauty, alarmed at Catherine’s odd statement and sudden hundred-yard stare, stuttered for a response. “Uh. how-how about coffee?”

Catherine was brought out of her fugue; a dazzling smile lit her face. “Oh yes, I’ve always wanted to taste it, it smells so lovely.”

The Beauty blinked a few times before nodding and setting about getting her bag, coat and keys. Catherine waited while the Beauty flipped a sign that said 'Back in 15 mins’ and locked the Library door behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it so far? Let me know what you think. ^_^
> 
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
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	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Ch6

 

Catherine sat across from The Beauty in a booth in the far back corner of the diner. She noticed a lot of stares from the people in the town, but ignored it as she experienced the texture of the seats’ vinyl under her rear and the way it creaked as she moved about like a floorboard in an old house.

The Beauty looked rather ill at ease with Catherine in general, but seemed quite perturbed by her drawing attention to their table with her investigation of the seat.

“So how do you know Rumple?” The Beauty asked without preamble. Catherine was disappointed. She liked preamble, it was fun to weave a conversation in and out of mundane things because usually people didn't appreciate the mundane nearly enough. She also learned a lot about a person in how they responded.

She lifted her head from analysing the seams of the vinyl seat, and gave the question some thought. He had come to Wonderland to collect something or other, she didn't remember now, and he had run into the latest victim of The White Rabbit. Catherine had been keeping an eye on the poor lost girl, she was merely five and had been singing along with The Tweedles, when The Rumple - scales gleaming burnished gold in the vivid sunlight of Wonderland - came leaping from behind a tree causing the poor dear to start crying. Catherine had found that he was a tricky fellow, which was quite normal for the individuals of Wonderland, but he was also as slimy as The Red Queen. Though if you were careful of the wording he gave and understood that he was slimy, he was actually quite a pleasure to have as company whenever he came to collect some artifact or other.

Before she could answer The Beauty, The She Wolf came to the booth with a notepad in hand, “Hi Belle, and, Uh, Sorry I don’t know your name.” 

Catherine eyed The She Wolf, she seemed to think she was being subtle trying to get a name for the rest of the townsfolk who hadn't been in the diner yesterday and whoever else was nosey enough to need gossip. Deciding that she only had the capacity to deal with one person who couldn't be subtle at a time, Catherine blinked silently up at The She Wolf and waited to see what her reaction would be. First, she shifted from foot to foot, eyes flicking from Catherine to The Beauty and back again. Then she started to clench her jaw and blew out an exasperated sigh. Finally, after rolling her eyes, she kicked a foot out and placed a hand on her hip. “Is there anything I can get for either of you?”

The Beauty, who had been chewing her nail while watching them, perked up at the recognisable social cue. “I’d like my usual tea,” she looked to Catherine, unsure if she would respond or not. “And, uh, a coffee for Catherine, please.”

The She Wolf looked at Catherine, “How do you want your coffee?”

Catherine tilted her head at the condiments on the table with a odd little smile on her face.  _ Hmm, cream, lots of cream. And sugar, just a little and I can add more if it pleases me _ .   
Blinking up at The She Wolf, she leans forward and says in the most pandering tone possible, "In a cup, if you can manage it."

The She Wolf stared at Catherine for a couple of heart beats, and when the words were understood, a foul shade of red filled her cheeks. 

“Coming right up.” her voice a strangled shrill cat, and flounced away, her footsteps heavier than when she had come to the booth. Catherine gave a little smirk and a flick of her wrist under the table and watched as The She Wolf’s trainer slipped in a small patch of spilled coffee. 

“I’ve known The Rumple for quite some time. His objectives never interfered with mine, in fact, we sometimes aided each others objectives, if we were able to.” Catherine stretched in the noisey booth seat, feeling her tail sway happily. “It was a barter system at first, though having interaction with someone who understood us was possibly why we maintained copesetic ties.” She leaned toward The Beauty, “I can assure you now, that there has never been, nor will there ever be, any romantic or sexual feelings between us.” She gave a bit of a chuckle at the way The Beauty flushed at the word ‘sexual’. She found her innocence quite charming. 

“So,” The Beauty scratched at the edge of the table directly in front of her. “Not even once?” 

Catherine scrunched her nose and gave a snicker, “Not even close. In fact, the thought is entirely appalling to me.” 

The Beauty gave a sigh and leaned back on her side of the booth. Catherine smiled at the relief and the creaking noise her movements gave. 

The bell, that had so far rung no more and no less than five times since they had entered the diner - not including the time it rang at their own entry - rang once again. The Beauty, who had looked up every time it had rung, lit up and waved when she saw the people who had entered. Catherine had taken to inspecting the condiments. She was curious as to what it was that made the mustard so yellow but did not stain one's fingers like mustard seeds were want to do. 

Three people came to their booth at the same time, but ignored by Catherine as she read the ingredients. “Aha!” She shouted, making the people around her jump. She looked up to The Beauty, The She Wolf, The Hatter and The Grace staring at her stunned. 

For a moment, Catherine didn't move, except that her heart skipped a beat before kicking off to a galloping speed. A thought came to her as loud as there ever were, even though thoughts were usually silent, that this was the first time that The Hatter had ever laid eyes on her. The adrenalin pushing a giggle through her disobedient lips. 

“Colour additives.” she told them. She pointed to the bottle. 

The Beauty and the She Wolf looked at her like she was speaking gibberish, which was a common occurance; the look and the gibberish. The Grace tilted her head in consideration, and The Hatter simply nodded his head in understanding. 

After a pause, that was probably uncomfortable for the few that were so reliant on social norms, The She Wolf placed the cups on their table, and with a saucy wink to the Hatter, she swayed her hips as she wandered off slowly. 

Pursing her lips, Catherine flicked her wrist under the table and the hip swaying ended with another slip in the same spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh... The Hatter and Catherine finally come face to face. 
> 
> what did you think?
> 
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

CH7

 

When she looked back at the people at the table, she saw that while The Grace and The Beauty had turned to commotion caused by The She Wolf's seeming clumsiness, The Hatter had kept his eyes on her. She blinked up at him with a little tilt to her lips for a moment, unsure how to handle this situation, wondering if he was going to say something. But when he didn't she shrugged her shoulders and turned to the coffee sitting in front of her.

There was a line of coffee running down the outside of the cup where it had been carelessly spilled, and there was no cream in it, though The She wolf had provided some for The Beauty, so that might have to do.

She sniffed at it the smell was strong and bitter, almost sour even. She dipped her finger into the cup for a little taste, absently acknowledging The Beauty as she asked if it was okay for The Hatter and The Grace to join them, and licked the little droplet of dark liquid from her finger.

It wasn't good.

Her eyes flickered up to the short laugh of The Hatter to see that he had continued watching her. She blinked at him, and decided that making him laugh at her displeasure was better than hearing him laugh in general. The Grace and the Beauty, who had paused in their discussion on books at the noise, went back to discussing Really Well Written Books of Lies.

Catherine reached over to the cream and poured a generous amount in, and then, to the tune of The Hatter’s snickers, the sugar bowl and began heaping scoops into the cup, all the while losing the fight to hide her proud smile.

Once the sugar was as stirred in as she figured it was ever going to get, she dipped her finger in again and gave it a little lick.

This time, The Hatters laughter was so boisterous, she couldn't help but join him, even in spite of the disappointment and disgust at her beverage.

“Why don't you try a tea?” he asked once his laughter had died down. She felt the smug self-satisfied smile slip off.

“No tea for me.” Catherine’s voice was hollow, but her eyes never left the blue of his eyes. Vivid, just like all colours in Wonderland.

His smile slipped and he frowned, concerned for her. She laughed. So silly that the Hatter would be so concerned for her over tea. She knew it held sentimental value to him. While for her it was his rejection of her, for him it was the touch stone to his relationship with The Grace.

Catherine looked at the young women that sat beside her in the booth, her big brown eyes flitting from her father to the strange stranger. Catherine gave a chuckle.

“Hello, my name is Catherine Jones, and who might you be?” She knew it would seem odd if she didn't even try to pretend that she knew nothing about them. She needed to make sure that she didn't give herself away, she wanted to cause more of The Hatter’s laughter.

“Hi, I’m Grace. I really like your dress.” The young woman beamed one of her magic smiles at Catherine. Not magic in the traditional sense, but in the sense that it always seemed to heal something in Catherine, and seemingly The Hatter. She was never sure if it was the part of her that had longed for children and was left wanting, or the part that was so terribly deprived of human contact, but either way she had never had this particular smile actually aimed at her.

Catherine couldn't help the erupting smile even if she wanted to. Maybe The Rumple was onto something when he forced her into corporeality. The Grace’s attention was drawn to her eyes, a shade of awe settled over her face, and Catherine knew her eyes had begun changing colours without her consent.  
“Thank you very much! I’ve always loved the style, there's something so charming about it, don't you think?” Knowing that it was a rather obvious trait for The Cheshire Cat, Catherine looked down at the dress and played with the lace trim on the bodice, while forcing the chaos magic down into her self.

“I wish I had dresses like that, but Papa says they’re for adult women, and not young girls. Don't you think seventeen is old enough to be considered a woman?” The pout in her voice drew Catherines attention right back to her face. Catherine snickered at the stubborn jaw and the determined gaze aimed at her father. Said Father was looking rather put out at the moment. The Beauty was simply amused, as though she'd seen this fight before. She likely had, it was a constant argument between the two, it had certainly delighted Catherine on days that she felt left out.

Catherine made a show of looking The Grace over, tilting her head this way and that in faux consideration, before turning to The Hatter with a wide smirk.

“I think The Amazing Grace might be right,” she made sure not to say his name, as it hadn't been mentioned yet. “Seventeen is certainly old enough to be considered a young lady.” His affronted look was ignored as she went on, “and like all young ladies, she should wear the many layers, high heels, corsets and fine lace that is becoming of any young lady. Far more becoming than this realms standard attire.” She gave The Hatter a little wink, then reached out and snapped her fingers at The Grace.

The girls startled yelp was music to her ears, even though it caused fear to flit over The Hatters face for a moment. When he saw that Catherine had merely changed The Graces attire, he smirked at the angle she had taken to helping him solve his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it?
> 
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
> 
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> 
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
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	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Ch8

Catherine pushed the coffee mug and its horrid contents away, eyeing the cooing girl next to her with a little smile. She really did look darling in the soft pink and brown dress. It won't take her long to lose interest in the whole idea though, Catherine had made sure of that. By the end of the day, the shoes would be rubbing blisters into her feet, she would be frustrated with the many skirts every time she went to the toilet and she wouldn't be able to slouch or eat large quantities of food. What better use for Chaos magic than that?  
The Beauty was fussing over the fact that The Grace was practically glowing in the shade of rose. The Hatter was blinking at Catherine, his mouth opening and closing clearly unsure of how to react. She found that the ingredients on the ketchup bottle were suddenly rather fascinating, until familiar voice cut through Catherine’s nervousness. “Ah, be careful what you wish for, young Grace, for not all that glitters is gold.”  
Catherine perked up, and looked up at the Rumple. “If wishes were fishes, I’d be leaving.”  
The Rumple bent and kissed The Beauty on the hand and sat on an empty chair at the end of the booth. “And why might that be?” He chucked.  
She felt a sharp grin cut across her mouth. “Because fish are disgusting and they smell.” She scrunched her nose at the memory of the rotting fish she’d often had to smell in Wonderland.  
He tilted his head at her, “I find that to be quite uncanny coming from you.”  
“Lots of things about me are uncanny,” She waved her hand in the air, brushing away the hint at her feline nature. “You however, dear Rumpelstiltskin, are a veritable encyclopedia of unsettling mystery and oddness.”  
The Rumple smirked at her, his teeth not even close to being as sharp as hers, but she knew when someone was baring their teeth at her. She watched as he took in The Hatter and the fact that he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off Catherine, something that had her blood running hot and cold all at once.  
“Ah, Jefferson, I see you’ve met my dear friend, Catherine.”  
She felt the fur on her tail and ears stand up, “Oh, dear friends, are we now?” She fought down the pulse of wild magic she knew would make her eyes change colour and possibly make her extra appendages to become corporeal.  
The Rumple settled back into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” His voice had a sharp edge to it, and his eyes had a gleam much like the times he’s been speaking of The Captain Hook and His Once Mila. Betrayal.  
She narrowed her eyes at him, the other members of their table watching them both as though they were about to witness a bloodbath. Perhaps they were.  
“Once upon a realm slip, you claimed to merely be an acquaintance, a colleague if you will.” She leaned over The Grace and flicked The Rumple on his arm. “Then you claim friendship, now you’re claiming it’s a dear friendship…” She looked over at The Beauty with a faux look of pity that was marred by her playful smile. “I worry for what is to come next, maybe you’ll claim brotherhood? I doubt Killian would appreciate it.”  
“What won't I appreciate?” The Brother asked as he pulled a chair up to the table next to The Grace, giving Catherine a smile that was as warm and bright as the sun on a late summer's afternoon.  
The Rumple gave a long suffering sigh, “Catherine was being dramatic, as if she were anything else.”  
The Hatter, The Brother, The Beauty and Catherine all crumpled into loud laughter, The Grace did her best to hide the smile she was unable to stop. No one seemed to notice The She Wolf as she placed plates down for The Hatter and The Grace. Her huffing and puffing gave Catherine even more to laugh at.  
As she wiped the tear that had leaked from her eye, Catherine lay her head against the back of the booth seat, watching The She Wolf stomp away. “Oh if there were ever a kettle that might call the pot dramatic, it is you, dear trickster.”  
Echoes of The Hatter’s laughter was filling the emptiness in her chest she didn't like to acknowledge. She bit her lip, trying to squash her satisfied smile, but failing miserably.  
“Cat’s always been a bit dramatic, but it's one of the things I’ve missed about her.” The Brother said, a wistful ring to his words.  
She rolled her head on the squeaky vinyl seat and looked at The Brother over The Grace’s head, his eyes were sad but hopeful. It was something that at one time, she didn't think would have ever related to her, but there it was all the same.  
“I wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatics, Killian. If I recall, you were one to embellish a tale or two, in the hopes that a lass might lift her skirt and, uh,” Catherine’s eyes flicked to The Grace, who was slathering her fries in ketchup. “Show you her ankle.”  
A near childish giggle erupted from The Hatter, and Catherine had to grab onto the table to keep from swooning. She did her best not to watch him bite his lower lip while he, too, painted the fries red.  
The Brother sat forward and pointed his finger at her. “I did no such thing! Take that back!”  
“I don't know, Captain Hook, that sounds awfully accurate to me.” The Rumple was clearly enjoying The Brother’s displeasure at being called out on his own behaviour.  
The Beauty cleared her throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “If I’m to judge the people at this table for the flair of drama, I’m going to have to admit, that it would be a hard task to find which of you would have the least amount of flair. Don't you think, Grace?”  
The Grace, who was doing her best at trying to hide the side long looks at her father, perked up at the attention. “Uh, pretend I’m not here.” She ducked her head and shoved a couple of her fries into her mouth.  
The Hatter went rigid, his plate of food forgotten at her words, and leant forward, giving The Grace a look of earnestness. “No, my Darling, I’m never going to pretend you’re not here. You weren't here for so long, I can't-”  
Something clenched in Catherine's gut as The Hatter’s words became more and more desperate. She was so used to being there to witness such spirals into madness, but unable to do anything about it. Her eyes flicked to the others at the table, and saw that most knew what was happening, though unwilling, or unable, to do anything about it.  
With a quick swallow, she ducked her head into his eyeline, drawing his attention to her from The Grace.  
“Jefferson,” her voice was velvet steel, causing The Hatter’s mouth to snap shut. “Jefferson, your Grace is right here. In Storybrooke. She’s not going anywhere. Neither are you.”  
The Hatter stared at Catherine for a long time, processing the words, unmoving, unseeing.  
When she saw his attention on the outside world was being lost to the internal monologue he must have been having, one no doubt filled with fear and confusion, she leaned forward and smacked her hand on the table.  
“Jefferson,” her voice was forceful, but still gentle. His eyes snapped back to hers. “See your daughter, dressed in her finery. In Storybrooke. In the diner. With your friends. Making fun of Rumpelstiltskin for being a drama queen.”  
She waved a hand, indicating the people in the booth.  
The Hatter’s eyes tracked the movement for a moment, then as though it finally occurred to him to look where she was indicating, The Hatter sucked in a breath as though he’d just surfaced from the bottom of a lake and his eyes took in the people around him and the dishes on the table and the clothes The Grace was wearing.  
“Oh, so sorry.” Was all he said before he turned to The Beauty with a heart stopping smirk and said, “Did I tell you about the time Rumpelstiltskin and I…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh! What do you think?
> 
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> Instagram - [@Kitty_Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kitty_kat_henshaw/)
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
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	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Ch9

 

Catherine skipped in a weaving line down the footpath beside, in front of, behind, and around The Brother, humming a tune she’d heard one of the lost girls sing while she was playing with the horrid guards of the Red Queen. 

The Brother was frowning and kept shooting speculative looks at her. It shouldn’t bother her that The Brother was just as put off by her disposition, but it did. She wasn’t prepared to bend and warp herself to make herself more palatable for anyone, not even The Brother. She liked who she was anyway. Sure, she wasn't perfect, but no person alive or dead was ever perfect. Not for a single minute of their lives. So she kept humming and skipping and admiring the plants that withstood the extreme temperature if the snow clumps that lay atop them. Hardy little things. She could relate sometimes. Not all the time though, it's impossible to stay positive all the time. 

“Cat,” The Brother called to her, drawing her attention away from the bush she was petting. Catherine looked up and saw that he was waiting for her to catch up, as he had turned a corner and she would lose sight of him. She gave him a beaming smile and gave the bush one last pat, before skipping around the corner to continue to follow him. 

The Brother stopped at a particular door and pulled out a key. Catherine looked around the entrance, seeing that they were just off the main street. There was a lot of people-watching that could happen here if one were so inclined. 

A tap on the shoulder startled Catherine out of her thoughts. She was going to have to get used to being touched again, it was so jarring when she felt something that was so unexpected. 

She turned around with a grin and The Brother lead her through the door, up some stairs, and in through another door. The apartment was large, open and had a high ceiling. She skipped to the expansive window to look at the view. She could see the water here, the jetty, and a small portion of the beach in the distance. No doubt The Brother and The Swan Princess only saw a small portion of that, but whatever they saw would still be pretty. 

A mewling sound broke Catherine of her reverree on whether it was the sight of the water, the concept of the water or memories of the water that made it so relaxing. She turned around and saw The Brother had been joined by His Swan Princess and Their Little Cat. 

Catherine felt a familiar facetious grin try to twist her face, due to her personal history with royalty, but pushed it down, remembering that The Little Cat Princess and The Swan Princess were nothing like the Red Queen. 

She decided to dip into a very low curtsey, and softly uttered, “Your Majesties.”

Catherine wanted to be on good terms with the mother of her niece. It might not get her very far, but it will get her further than being a Duchess would. 

“Oh, god. No. please dont ever do that again. That is- I’m not-, Just dont, okay?” 

Catherine looked up from the floor and saw that The Swan Princess was actually blushing. The Brother looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh at His Swan Princess, and The Little Cat was looking up at her mother, entranced by her.

She straightened up, looking between the two hosts, wondering what they wanted her to do now. They seemed to be just as unsure what the next step was. It was the mewling of The Little Cat that drew everyone's attention. 

The Swan Princess stepped toward Catherine, a hesitant question on her face as she lifted her precious bundle toward her. Catherine was startled, her eyes bouncing from the earnest face of The Swan Princess to the intense somberness on The Brother’s face. She was just willing to give Catherine their tiny daughter to hold? without even knowing who she was anymore? no questions asked? did they not know how dangerous she could be? did they not hear The Rumple when he claimed they were equally powerful? 

The Swan Princess took another step forward. “She won't bite.” she said softly, teasingly. 

Catherine rolled her eyes, of course The Little Cat won't bite. She eyed the blonde woman, she looked tired and bedraggled like new mothers do, but Catherine could sense the power that ran in her veins; the magic and the content of her character. It decided her. She wasn't trusting a practical stranger with her daughter, she felt the daughter was safe because she was there too. 

Catherine focused on the child, her fluffy brown hair so sparse and her big blue eyes so bright and new. She ran a hand over the babe, her fingers not touching, just tasting her aura. Born of True Love, this child had so much potential. Perhaps, if things were different, and the child were her own, chaotic power would be dancing in her too. But this child could still learn. Catherine’s eyes flicked up to the baby’s parents, if she were allowed to teach. 

She felt her dry hands slide across the warm fleece pajamas on the tiny girls chest and legs, before she lifted her into her arms and pressing her to her chest. Maybe this little girl could ease the ache if she hugged her close enough to the place where it hurt.   
Catherine frowned, it occurred to her that her corset was likely too hard for cuddles with a newborn. She frowned at her clothing, nose twitching as she thought.  _ Hmm, what would be best? Ah yes! _ She cradled the baby to herself with one arm, and lifted the other and snapped her fingers. The corseted victorian dress and heels were replaced with a soft dark plum sweater dress, opaque tights and ballet flats.

“Oh!” The Swan Princess startled, taking an involuntary step forward. Catherine looked up and locked eyes with her. That was when she felt The Little Cat give a sigh and melt into Catherine’s warmth, causing a little smile to creep onto Catherine’s face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta! Check her out for her awesome fic-ery in the link.
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> If you like this, check out my profile for other fics and for my website and upcoming novel, Once Upon A ...What?

####  Ch10

 

“She makes me melancholic, Brother.” Catherine murmured with a smile down at The Little Cat, her free hand sliding tenderly over the infant’s soft hair. 

“Melancholic?” The Swan Princess asked, her eyes like an eagles ,  watching every move Catherine made with her daughter. 

Catherine began rocking side to side, in hopes of getting the little girl to give into the pull of sleep. “Mmhmm, over six hundred years and not a family to call my own. Not a man, not a child. I helped when girls would get lost, like me.” She paused, staring at the perfect little curl on The Little Cat’s head. “But they always went home, and I’ve wanted to be a mother forever.”

“Aye, I remember. You made me put that dog in the doll’s clothes, and you used to drive it around in a doll’s cart.” The Brother’s voice was unchanged, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes that Catherine couldn't look at for too long. 

“You could look after Catherine whenever you like,” The Swan Princess blurted out. 

Catherine giggled, she looked after herself all the time, but then the reality of the Swan Princesses meaning sank in and she froze in her rocking, stunned. Her eyes locked onto the mother that would give a veritable stranger her babe. She knew her eyes were changing colour, but she thought that perhaps Her Highness ought to know how powerful the woman she was entrusting her blood with was. 

“You barely know me.” Catherine said lowly. Who would be so ignorant as to just blindly- 

“I agree with Emma.” The Brother’s words broke her from her thoughts. 

Catherine stared between The Brother and The Swan Princess, anger filling her. 

“Are you two insane? I’ve seen and been insane and you’re acting an awful lot like it.” The Swan Princess stepped back at the vehemence in Catherine's voice, but The Brother only smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I’m practically a stranger, friends with the disreputable Rumpelstiltskin and you think to give your precious daughter over to my care without considering how dangerous that might be?”

The Brother rolled his eyes as though she were being overly dramatic. “How dangerous could it be, Cat, if you’re holding her like she’s the most precious thing you’ve ever had the privilege to touch? My only concern would be getting her back from your very capable hands once we’re ready to have her back.”

At the Brothers flippancy, Catherine felt her anger boil over and she felt her ears and tail become corporeal. The Brother and The Swan Princess jumped back. The latter put her hand over her mouth in shock.

“I am not who you seem to think I am, Brother. I am not some harmless being, and six hundred years of being trapped in madness doesn't exactly cater to sweetness and rainbows.”

“You’re the Cheshire Cat.” The Swan Princess muttered.

The Brother turned to His Swan Princess frowning, “How do you know where we came from?” 

The Swan Princess looked back at him dazed, “What?”

Catherine let out a hissing bitter laugh, her tail thrashing behind her. “You’ve been in this realm for years now, and you  _ still _ haven’t heard of me,” She spat in rage. She stalked to the brother, stopping a foot away from him, giving him a good look at the changes in her. “When I fell into Wonderland, I did my best to return, but when I discovered that it was a one way Rabbit Hole, I tried to get word back to you. I introduced myself as Cat from Cheshire to everyone and anyone that would meet me, hoping that tales of me would find their way to you, for you to know that I was still alive.” Her smirk became cruel. “And it was all for naught. By the time the magic of Wonderland had altered me so completely and I became The Cheshire Cat, along with the mastering the chaotic magic, allowing me the power to leave, you were supposed to have been long dead.” She paced away from The Brother, no longer able to hold onto the anger with his face masked in agony. Is it really a ‘mask’ of agony if the agony is genuine? 

She felt the Little Cat stirring in her arms, so she hushed her back to sleep with gentle rocking motions and a soft humming of a song she had heard from her mother as a child, or maybe it was a song that one of the lost girls remembered her mother singing to her. It all got muddled so. 

“If you’ve been in Wonderland all this time, why doesn't Jefferson know you?” The Brother asked, curiosity in his voice. 

Catherine spun on the spot with such grace and ease that The Little Cat Princess didn't even move. “He would have my head!” She let out a helpless hysterical laugh. “The Hatter wished me dead thrice over, Brother. I cannot tell him I am The Cheshire Cat from Wonderland, he would see me dead.” 

The Swan Princess, who had calmed considerably since Catherine began holding The Little Cat, had stepped over to the kitchen to put the kettle on, looked over with a frown. “Why?”

Realising that she was going to be trusted with The Little Cat Princess regardless of who she was, Catherine gave a tired chuckle and fell back into an invisible rocking chair, ignoring the way The Brother was inching toward her, his eyes on the ears flickering on top of her head. “He knew I helped the lost girls, The Hatter believed that I should have been able to help him, but I couldn't.” Catherine looked down at the precious little bundle in her arms, and swore on all the magic in the realms that nothing of the sort would happen to The Little Cat.

The Swan Princess paused, “Because he wasn’t a girl?” 

Catherine shook her head, a mournful chuckle escaped her. “No, if only it was so simple. The problem was that the Hatter wasn’t lost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

#### Ch11

 

“That's not how he tells it,” The Swan Princess replied, pouring hot water into three large mugs.

Catherine sighed, rocking gently back and forth. Her eyes on The Little Cat in her arms, but her attention on The Brother who was standing by the non-existent rocking chair, analysing the ears on top of Catherine's head. “No, I imagine it's not.”

She made her ears incorporeal just as The Brother reached out to touch them. He gave a startled yelp, snatching his hand back, and startling awake The Little Cat in Catherine's arms.

“Killian, really, do behave,” she huffed before picking up her humming, settling The Little Cat back to sleep quite quickly. Catherine smirked down at the puckered lips of the sleeping babe. _Sleep has a lure that even the mighty must be felled by._

The Swan Princess placed a mug in front of Catherine, causing her to frown.

The Brother snorted. “Catherine is not a fan of coffee, Love,” he told His Swan Princess, shifting the mug to sit before him where he settled himself on the couch.

The Swan Princess frowned down at the extra mug in front of them. “Oh,” She reached for the tea, but before she could say anything, The Brother gently took her hand and subtly shook his head. Catherine eye’d the way The Brother and The Swan Princess communicated silently. They were very fluent in each other’s body language, confident in each others meanings. A whole conversation took place before her between the two lovers without so much a sound, and although she felt a sting of jealousy, a wish that she too could have something so intimate, Catherine was infinitely happy to know that after all she had deduced The Brother had been through, he was happy.

“Why don't you tell me what you mean about Jefferson?” The Swan Princess was tenacious. Catherine felt herself smile, so was The Brother, if she wasn't mistaken.

“He wasn’t ever lost. He came and went from Wonderland with his,” She rocked her head back and forth trying to find the right word. “Missions for Rumpelstiltskin. He knew where to go, what to do, how to leave. He wasn't lost,” She said the last with her eyes locked on the Swan Princesses. “Then he was trapped, but he knew exactly where he was, he knew how to go home, he wasn’t lost.” Catherine said softly, painfully.

The Brother shifted in his seat and pointed his hook at me, like a weird, bent metal finger. “I thought you said you could leave Wonderland after a while.”

I nodded my head, smirking at how simple it all must seem.

“Yes, well, my magic, my means to escape, is…” She flicked my tail back and forth, drawing attention to my extra appendages. “Lets say fickle. Chaos magic is the term used, though Chaos itself by its original definition is not at all chaotic. In fact, it's more the absence of things, nothingness. The magic tied to reality in Wonderland is more like topsy-turviness, or relaxed pandemonium.” She shook her head, sighing. “It is hard to describe other than the new term for Chaos. It is not just disorder, because there is order as well.” Giving up on trying to define her magic, Catherine shrugged at the two sitting on the couch in front of her. “It’s really rather complex and I don't know how else to explain it except that the magic _is_ Wonderland. It has a mind of its own, makes its own laws, and then defies them all at once.”

The Swan Princess blinked at Catherine, watching as she absently rubbed The Little Cats back while she slept. “How do you still have magic then, and what does that have to do with Jefferson?”

Catherine, who had been imagining The Hatter cradling His Grace in much the same manner, came back to the conversation and blinked back at The Swan Princess. “It left traces of itself in me that built up over the years and ultimately I became my own source of chaotic magic that has a mind of it’s own. Wonderland allowed me to channel it’s magic as much as I wanted so long as I only returned those who were lost. People unwillingly lead to Wonderland. Wonderland didn't want the unwilling, Wonderland wants those who can appreciate it. It allows the Rabbit to bring the unsuspecting, so they might see and spread stories of Her, and then allowed me to send the lost ones home, the ones who were innocent.”

“And what of you? You were thirteen when you went missing!” The Brothers thunderous voice startled The Little Cat awake with a yowl of displeasure.

“Killian, what did I say?” Catherine scolded, and began rocking again on the non existent chair.

“No, I want to know why you could send them home, but not go home yourself.” The Brother’s eyes were blazing and he was sitting on the edge of his seat.

Catherine sighed. “Because it wasn't until I’d been accepted to be a part of Wonderland that the deal was struck.”

The Swan Princess was looking at Catherine with fear and horror. “A part of Wonderland?”

Nodding, Catherine managed to settle The Little Cat Princess into some snuffles. “Wonderland can go get sodded then, you’re not going back.” The Brother growelled.

Catherine, momentarily stunned by his words, gaped at the odd man who had once been her wholesome older brother. Then a delighted laugh pushed its way from her belly and, though she tried her best, she couldn't keep it down.

“Killian, I wouldn’t go back in a million years if I had a choice, of which I _do_ have. But Wonderland has left its mark on me regardless.” She flicked her ears and tail as a reminder. “I will stay wherever you are, I think six hundred years is long enough to serve Wonderland.” She sighed, “I do not know who would send the lost girls home, but I can come and go as I please, perhaps check in now and then.” She shrugged, taking in the relieved look on the Brothers face, a sharp grin stretched across her face. “But I won’t be trapped there, I haven’t been trapped anywhere for over four hundred years. Whether by Magic, Death or Realm. ”

The Swan Princess snapped her gaping mouth closed after a moment's, her wide eyes sliding to The Brother’s, who looked oddly proud. The look caused Catherine to feel a sting behind her eyes. So silly, she hadn’t cried in hundreds of years, why start now?  
“Where are you staying?” The Swan Princess asked.

Catherine suddenly found the soft tuft of hair on her nieces head incredibly interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, its cold/flu season here in Australia and family and I were experiencing some of it. And if you're wondering, yes... I do currently sound like a phone sex worker commertial. 
> 
> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

####  Ch12

 

“Cat?” The Brother’s voice was suspicious, making Catherine feel the need to squirm, though she was now the elder sibling. 

“Oh, you could say I’ve found a place,” She answered noncommittally.

“You’re not going to tell us, are you?” The Swan Princess asked redundantly.

When Catherine looked up at her through her lashes, she got enough of an answer. 

The Brother frowned and looked between Catherine and His Swan Princess. 

“What? Why not?” His hands finding their way to his hips. Smiling, Catherine went back to touching the soft little coil of hair that sprang up on The Little Cat’s head, mesmerised by something so soft and delicate. 

“Cat?” The Brother prodded again, a shade of concern colouring his voice. What colour would concern be? And how would it change the original colour of The Brother’s voice? What colour would his voice even be? It is the same colour it had been before he ended up in Neverland, or was he so changed that the colour of his voice changed as well?

Catherine laughed at the idea that maybe her own voice was a different colour now, too, causing The Brother to kneel before her and lean in to look at her face. Feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable at the tender care on his face, she bared her teeth, a mockery of a grin, and snapped at him. The Brother jumped back half a foot, not very far at all, though enough to allow Catherine room to breathe. 

She blinked at her actions, realising that he didn’t deserve her ire, he was merely concerned. Catherine forgot that people cared about you in the other realms. 

“I’m staying somewhere safe, though completely unbeknownst to the other occupants.” A burst of laughter erupted from her throat, “I’d also like it very much to stay that way so that I don’t have to force Rumpelstiltskin to make space for me in his home; he’s a terrible grouch in the mornings.”

A flicker of worry danced across the faces of The Brother and The Swan Princess, making Catherine roll her eyes, half expecting some kind of valiant proposal to try to help her.

“You could stay with us.” The Swan Princess blurted out. Catherine smirked at her. She seems to be doing her best to keep Catherine in Killian’s life, which she needn’t do as Catherine would be making a magical tether to the three of them as soon as she had their permission. No matter how far she travelled, she would be able to return at a moment's notice. 

Catherine gave The Swan Princess a knowing smile. “No I can’t. But don’t worry, I’m not planning to disappear again.” She turned a self deprecating smile on The Brother. “I’m afraid I’m terribly attached to all three of you and if I were in any way asked to leave, I might tear the realms themselves apart to return to you.” 

Silence met that statement, a eerie blanket of acknowledgement that both warmed and suffocated all at once.

“That is... “ The Swan Princess looked from The Brother to Catherine and back again. “A lot to take in,” she sighed.

Catherine shrugged. “If you allow it, I might have a…” she waved a hand around in the air, searching for words that didn’t sound ominous. “A charm that might allow me to always find the three of you, should anything happen.”

The Swan Princess perked up while The Brother looked suspicious. 

The former leaned forward eyes bright and dazzling. “No matter what realm everyone is in?” She opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by The Brother. 

“What’s the catch?” Catherine looked at The Brother, confusion clouding her thoughts. 

“Catch of the day is usually some kind of fish,” she said slowly, a half smile on her lips, waiting for The Brother to finish the joke.

Instead, he shook his head and pointed a finger at The Swan Princess. “If I’ve learned anything about magic from being around her and her family, it’s that magic always has a price. So what’s the catch?”

Catherine blinked at him, still confused, but now about why he was asking. “Of course magic always has a price. This charm won’t affect you, Emma or little Catherine. In fact, you wont even feel it.” 

The Brother narrowed his eyes at her and leaned in. “And what about you?”

Catherine’s unsure smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “What about me?”

He huffed impatiently. “What will it cost you?” 

Catherine’s eyes widened and her smile slipped off her completely. “Oh.”

The Brother’s jaw muscles moved under the skin, nostrils flaring slightly. She sighed, “I’ve paid much for the magic I wield,” she waved her hands over her head, indicating the furry appendages. “and if I’m not mistaken, this might give me extra distractions, but nothing more.”

He narrowed his eyes, “Extra distractions?” 

Catherine bit her lip, of course he would latch onto that, he has a hook why wouldn’t he latch onto things? “I already have similar connections to some, not as tightly bound, the lost girls for instance. I hear when they are in terrible danger or need me.” She tried to leave it at that, but his expectant face told her that he wanted more. “I’ve also tied myself to a few people a bit tighter. I can hear when they are upset and need someone or when they need to be left alone.”

“So it will give you a read on our emotions?” The Swan Princess cocked her head at Catherine, much like a cat herself. Catherine giggled, she was just as curious, too.

“Not quite, it’s more that I know when help is needed or not needed. For the lost girls, I only feel it in dire moments, in… others, I can feel it in something as mundane as emotional upset.” Catherine caught her tail swaying in the direction of The Hatter and The Grace and made the effort to lay it over the arm of the rocking chair. “ I can’t tell if they’re angry or sad or happy or excited. I just feel the intensity of emotions and direction.” 

The Swan Princess remained silent, processing the information while sipping her coffee. The Brother heaved a sigh of resignation. 

“I’m in. And, Love? I want our Cat to have it too. If anything were to happen to her, we’ll have a chance of rescuing her. Your family has a lot of enemies,” He paused at her droll look. “And perhaps I, too, have some enemies,” he conceded. 

The Swan Princesses lips twisted in consideration. “Is it reversible?” 

Catherine blinked, a sardonic smile on her face. “I’m afraid not.”

The Swan Princess frowned. “What about death?” 

“Even then.” Catherine sighed.

“What do you mean? How do you know?” The Swan Princess and The Brother sat gaping at Catherine, who gave them a sly knowing grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I've been away for a couple of months. I've had some other priorities including the final steps of publishing Once Upon A... What? (formerly The Unwilling Odyssey)   
> Feel free to check out my website to see the amazing cover art and sign up for email notifications about its publishing dates. 
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> as usual I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

Chapter 13

 

Catherine watched as The Swan Princess adjusted the mobile above the Little Cat and smirked. The more things change the more they stayed the same. The babe gave a delighted cry and Catherine's smirk turned genuine, even when she felt the eyes of the townspeople on her like an itch beneath her skin. She preferred it when they didn’t know she existed, but this way she got to speak with The Brother and cuddle the Little Cat. 

“I hope she’s warm enough, I don’t know if the wind outside will bother her. I should have driven, but it seemed ridiculous to come only a few blocks to Grannies in the car.” The Swan Princess sighed and looked back out at the slurry pelting against the windows. 

Catherine looked up from the happy baby and back at The Swan princess with an incredulous look. Tsk, silly woman. Rolling her eyes, she made a big show of flicking her hands about, so that she still had some ability of casting spells without being obvious, deciding to throw in a pelvic thrust for the fun of watching The Swan Princesses incredulous face, and watched as the baby buggy began reshaping into an old fashioned one, with full cover and the basket underneath filled with thick warm knitted blankets. 

The Swan Princess frowned reproachfully at Catherine, having had a lot of her things changed for one reason or another, though Catherine didn’t notice, as she was focused on the stifled laughter nearby. 

There, in the booth just by them, was The Grace and The Hatter, (not that Catherine had missed their proximity to her) laughing at The Swan Princesses predicament and Catherine's nonplussed expression. 

“Cat, please change that back, I paid an arm and a leg for that buggy.” Catherines attention was brought back to the fuming Swan Princess and she tilted her head, stifling her own laughter. “Then where’s your hook and pegleg?” she said a little louder for The Grace and The Hatter to hear. The increased snorting from their booth made her incorporeal ears twitch with delight. 

The Swan Princess merely put her hands on her hips and frowned harder, causing Catherine to roll her eyes and wave her hands around the nearly antique looking buggy and swished her hips a little because frankly, being in such close proximity to The Hatter as well as being visible, was awakening  _ things _ in her that she thought long dead. The Hatter made eye contact with her on a regular basis, now that she was forced to traverse this town visibly, and Catherine found eye contact with his complexity filled baby blues was like a physical caress after years upon years of taking care of him.

The buggy returned to its former shape, and Catherine sighed and swished her tail irritably along with her wrist as a clear vinyl cover encased the buggy opening with small air holes that, too, were protected from the rain. Matching hooded cloaks covered The Swan Princess and Catherine, mirroring something she’d seen on a fashion runway she’d seen while exploring television for the first time. She found she liked some of it and hated other parts, so her wardrobe had become “even more eclectic” according to The Swan Princess. 

The Swan Princess stared at the fastenings on the clear cloak, a look of concealed exasperation on her face. Catherine found it difficult to be friends with her, she was too serious and too inflexible, but she would be polite and put up with her pickiness purely for The Brother and The Niece. She knew The Swan Princess had good attributes, but she found that she always rubbed the woman the wrong way by being everything that was the opposite, which only caused friction. She was tempted to disappear, but she needed to see The Brother before leaving for the day. 

The doorbell to The Grannies eatery jingled and in came the man himself. 

“Speak of him and he shall appear.” Catherine smirked at The Brother as his greeting smile met his eyes. The Swan Princess gave her a sidelong glance and a slight frown saying, “You didn’t say anything about him at all, though.” Catherine rolled her eyes and sighed “It’s the thought that counts, obviously,” and did her best to ignore the way The Swan Princess clenched her jaw. So literal. How did she wield magic if she were so incapable of abstract thought?

The little tittering that came from the booth said that The Grace and The Hatter had heard this as well, and though Catherine longed to spend a day discussing absolute nonsense with them in a way that could only be understood by those who had an understanding of impossible possibilities, she also knew that getting too close might lead to questions that ought not get answered. So she forced her grin and allowed her tail thrash out of sight to vent the frustration toward her predicament. The Brother, however, was wildly capable of discussing nonsense to a certain degree, though he was often reigned in by His Swan Princess. 

Though this time The Brother looked to be placating The Swan Princess and not engaging in conversation with Catherine, which added to her frustration, making her grin stretch a little more with a touch of pain. She hated that the differences forced The Brother to have to choose constantly between The Swan Princess and herself, which was what she wished to discuss with him before she disappeared for the day.

“Oh, yes, thoughts are far more powerful than words, by far. They are the progenitors of words themselves, thus are filled with more potential.” Catherine blinked and looked over at The Hatter, whose congenial words had also caused The Brother and The Swan Princess to pause also. She felt her grin slip sideways and an eyebrow spike at the man, now standing in the space between his booth and the entrance where she and her newly rediscovered family stood. 

She tilted her head back, gauging how far The Hatter might wish to indulge in whimsical conversation, before saying, “If thoughts are the progenitors of words, then it could be easily argued that emotions are the seeds of them, and thus, as words are themselves the progenitors of the worlds as we know them, then our emotions are the seeds of the worlds.” The Hatter’s eyes sparked to life in such a way that Catherine felt her tail swaying to keep herself balanced. She ignored the way The Brother’s eyebrows jumped and eyes danced between The Hatter and herself, and focused on the way The Hatter was leaning ever so slightly toward her, his eyes taking in her loose messy ringlets, something that The Swan Princess was constantly eyeing with concealed distaste, and how it contrasted with the high collared cream blouse held together by dozens of tiny buttons, and the black bustled skirt that ended at the knees to show off stockinged legs and equally fastidiously buttoned dainty boots. “You have quite a way with words, Miss Jones.” He locked eyes with her, ponderously before a challenging glint sparked in his eyes. “If emotions are the seeds of the worlds, and our environments shape us, then emotions would, too then, be the mother of each of us and then a never ending cycle of our emotions that shape the worlds that shape us?”

Catherine held down the laugh that wanted to spring from her mouth. How she had longed for conversation like this. “Then, Mr… uh.” She faltered, she knew better than to call him by his surname, both the one given to his alter from the cursed personality or the one he had back in the enchanted forest, both had never technically been given to her, and it was improper to call him by his given name without permission.

Catherine watched in horror and delight as he reached out and took her hand, lifted it to his lips and muttered to them in such a way that she could feel his hot breath ghost against her unworthy knuckles. “You may call me Jefferson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.  
> Debut novel “Once Upon A… What?” coming soon.

Catherine nearly swallowed her tongue. As much as her very being longed for this, she knew that it could only lead to trouble. And being her, she decided to go down in a blaze of gory. 

“Well, Jefferson, then you must have quite the words with ways.” She ignored the fact that he was still holding her hand. He could have it. She could get by with a hook. The Brother could  _ hook _ her up, surely. A laugh erupted from her, spilling out over her and the people around her. 

“It wasn't  _ that _ funny.” The Swan Princess muttered. 

Catherine ignored her, as she was far too delighted and focused on the man touching her for the very first time. His fingers were warm and her heart leapt at the feeling of his fingertips grazing hers. 

“I’m afraid, Miss Swan, that you didn't get the joke,” The Hatter remarked, his eyes studying Catherines in ways that made her feel like he could read her mind.

“Then perhaps you could explain it to me, ‘cause I’ve never understood why she laughs randomly.” The Swan Princess had her hands on her hips and there was a crease between her brows.

“Emma-” The Brother murmured.

“No, Killian, I don’t get it. The way she acts, I feel like she should be on medication or something. Perhaps we could get her to see Doctor Hopper like you suggested.” The Swan Princess was facing The Brother head on now, discussing Catherine as though she weren't there. The Hatters eyes grew round and even The Grace at her table had become pale. Catherine for her part was not exactly sure how to feel. The fact that her family thought she was defective or the fact that they wanted to change her, or the fact that they thought they had any say in whether she should be treated at all. 

She looked at The Brothers face, who looked guilty as he tried to calm The Swan Princess down. She realised that today was not going to be the day that she talks to him about whether anything can be done about the obvious dischord that took place when The Swan Princess and Catherine were in the same room. It seemed quite clear to Catherine that the decision had already been made. There was no compromise when the one you wished to spend time with thought you needed to be different for their comfort. 

The tingle in her arm brought her back to the fact that The Hatter was still holding her hand and was looking at her with an intensity that dropped the floor right from under her. Though it was such a regular occurrence, she was able to right herself fairly quickly. 

With a weak smile she took her hand back, and with a flourish, became incorporeal. It was the only safe place to be to allow her pain to surface. Just a tear, nothing more. Hope was hard to hold onto when she’s had everything she’d ever wanted ripped away, so she wasn't attached to them, yet. Well emotionally. She had set up the tethers and would always be attached to them. They needn't know if she ever came to their rescue for whatever reason. It was all just a business transaction. 

She ignored the shouting of The Brother and sat on an invisible high stool and sighed. She  _ was _ attached to The Little Cat, but there wasn't much to be done for that. 

“You know,” started The Hatter, his eyes hard as flint pinning The Swan Princess where she stood. “Just because you don't understand something, doesnt mean you have to change it to fit in your own understanding of the world. Just as I don't try to change you to make you make any sense to me.” 

The Swan Princess scoffed. “I’m surprised anything makes sense to you.”

“Plenty of things make perfect sense to me.” His eyes flicked to The Brother and back again. “But you dont.” He added. It dropped into the room like stones in a pond. 

“And how exactly do I not make sense?” She rolled her eyes, offering sarcastically to hear him out.

“You are the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, you’re born of true love, you’ve married Hook and travelled across many magical realms, and still you act as if logic applies to the worlds.”

“That’s because logic  _ does _ apply to the worlds,” she insisted.

“Not all of them.” he ground out. “And if I’m not mistaken, she’s spent some time in one of them. Maybe Wonderland, perhaps another like it. But there's a chaotic magic about her that does not apply to your sense of ‘Logic’” he said using his fingers as bunny ears. Catherine was delighted to see the bunny ears. It gave her the sense of being known, but even if he hated her when he figured it out… at least someone would  _ know _ her. 

“She’s nothing like when we were children,” The Brother pleaded softly. 

The Hatter eyed him a moment, “You think things ought to stay the same once you’ve had everything you know proven to be a fallacy?”

The Brother cringed, “No, but… I-” 

The Hatter shook his head. “If you haven't already lost her, you ought to fix it. Accept her as she is or you’re not worthy of her love.” With that, The Hatter stepped by the gaping couple and casually walked out the door. The Grace walked to them, eyes flickering to where the now invisible Catherine sat gaping, a little smirk on her lips. 

“I just thought I’d tell you now, that Papa gets like her sometimes and the worst that happens is that I don't understand something he’s laughing or crying about.” She narrowed her eyes and raised her voice a little, “but that doesn't mean that he needs to be medicated or have to be changed to suit my needs. I would happily invite Miss Jones to our family should hers be foolish enough to lose her.” Her eyes flicked to the place that Catherine had disappeared at, and left the diner as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is the breakfast of champions!  
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel “Once Upon A… What?” 
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
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> Instagram - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kat_henshaw/)
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	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debut novel “Once Upon A… What?” coming soon.  
> Subscribe to my website to be notified when its availible.  
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

####  Chapter 15

 

Catherine sat on the air, level with the first floor landing, looking down on The Hatter and The Grace as they puzzled out the green tea for the Japanese tea ceremony. It had taken them a few days to find it, but only because Catherine had decided to put them out of their misery. 

She choked on her laughter as The Hatter’s face froze and then screwed up at the first taste. Catherine imagined her face was much the same after her first taste of coffee. She climbed down the invisible staircase and sat down next to him to look in the cup. The drink was brown, rather than green. Being that the images in the book showed that matcha green tea was, in fact, green, it gave her reason to laugh harder in delight. It felt good to laugh after yesterday's confrontation with The Brother and The Swan Princess. Catherine had felt awful and had laid silently in the spare room she usually occupied in her incorporeal form. She had been so distraught she barely registered The Grace airing the room in the morning and closing the windows up again in the evening.

“Finally met a tea you didn’t like, Darling?” She gasped out between giggled breaths. 

“This tea is faulty,” he said, frowning at the cup.

Catherine fell to her side and rolled on the rug laughing. “Oh yes, it ’ s the tea’s fault!”

“Papa, I don ’ t think it ’ s the tea,” The Grace said kindly as she began cleaning up and readying another attempt, though a tiny smirk lifted her lips at the corner of her mouth. 

He simply glared at the bottom of the cup.

There was a knock on the door and The Hatter furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Are we expecting anyone?” He asked as he stood up to answer the door. 

Catherine wiped at the tear in her eye and swiftly lifted herself to her feet in an attempt to beat him to the door. She had seconds to spare as she passed her head through the door only to see The Rumple raise a brow at her. She glared and raised a finger at him through the wooden door. “Not a word.”

The Rumple simply shrugged his shoulders, which moved in sync with his brows, and smiled. It wasn't the least bit reassuring to Catherine. 

The door opened and The Hatter was face to face with The Rumple, though an incorporeal Catherine stood between. She stepped aside, knowing that it would just be annoying for The Rumple to see two faces at the same time.

“Gold,” The Hatter said cautiously, “What brings you across town?”

The Rumple tipped his head back and took a moment to look at the other man.

“It seems you have taken an interest in a friend of mine, Jefferson,” the tone of warning was loud and clear for all to hear.

Catherine gasped and put her hands on her hips, “Rumpelstiltskin, how dare you come here and threaten him for showing interest in me. You’re not my father or brother, and even if you were, this is a society of equality. You apologize, claim demonic possession and leave. Now.”

The muscles around The Rumple’s mouth tightened, but Catherine wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or growl. Knowing him as long as she did, she’d have wanted to say growl, but he’s had a lot of growth over the last few years. 

“Look, Rumple, I’m… uh.” The Hatter looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Catherine got side tracked by how adorable he looked, but then remembered why. 

“Rumple, leave,” she insisted. 

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Look, I don't want to warn you off or anything, just know that she is loved and should you treat her as you have other women in the past,” at this The Rumple raised his eyebrow to him, “I will be forced to take sides. You don't want me as your enemy, Jefferson.” With that, he flicked his eyes at Catherine who was even more furious, and turned on the spot and walked back down the steps.

“Rumple!” She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. 

To that the man, his back still to them, called over his shoulder, “Do be a dear, and if you see her, tell her I would love to know where my french cuisine recipe book is. I was looking forward to making Belle a souffle and now all I can produce is cupcakes.”

Catherine felt her mouth snap closed and her eyes swung to The Hatter, who now had a calculating gleam in his eye. After a moment, he peered around cautiously and closed the door firmly. 

Catherine followed him through the door into the house and watched him as he looked around the house as though he were searching for something.

“Gracey?” he called out as he continued to glance around. 

“Yes, Papa?” She replied absently as she reread the instructions in the library book. 

The Hatter sucked his teeth as his eyes danced around the room, a thoughtful expression on his face, and Catherine knew her time was up.

 

***

Sitting with her legs criss cross on the counter, eyes closed and focused on her breathing, Catherine was still aware of The Rumples entrance to his kitchen. A huff sounded from the door, though she didn't move a single inch. 

“It might have been Belle who came in here just now, Dearie, and I wouldn't have been able to clean up the mess she left of you if she did.” His footsteps circled behind her, where the knives were stored, though Catherine wasn't afraid, as she knew that he remembered their last fight and how the stalemate didn't end well for the others in the area. 

“I’m not so stupid as to confuse The Beauty and The Rumple’s energies,  _ dear friend, _ ” the last words spat out like she could get the bad taste out of her mouth. “Oh yes, a  _ friend like you. _ ” she snickered with an edge, eyes never opening. “A friend that digs his claws in and rips shreds while telling you he only wants what is best for you.” she felt her tail thrash. “A  _ friend  _ who shuts all the doors around you when you let your guard down-”   
“What are you talking about?” the Rumples footsteps stopped in front of her, and she opened one eye but a sliver. 

“I mean that you, my  _ dearie _ , have been instrumental in making me show myself, gain lost family, and then lose it and my resting place in but a short time.” she peered at him through both eyes, now, both narrowed in fury. “Do you wish to claim a trophy, perhaps? Some token of your victory?”

He glared, frustration radiating off him in waves of itchy magic, though he did nothing more than raise an eyebrow. “What on earth are you talking about?” 

“You won. You have stripped me of my family, my home and as I have no sanity to count, I have nothing. Shall you take an ear? Perhaps my hand also? It seems to be your flavour from what I’ve seen.”

The Rumple stepped back, stunned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is the breakfast of champions!  
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel “Once Upon A… What?” 
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> Instagram - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kat_henshaw/)
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> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
> 
> Facebook - [Katherine Henshaw Author](https://www.facebook.com/KatherineHenshawAuthor/)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debut novel “Once Upon A… What?” coming soon.  
> Subscribe to my website to be notified when it’s available.   
> Merch now available.   
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> I own nothing.  
> Thanks to [Livvy_Nicklaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy_Nicklaus/pseuds/Livvy_Nicklaus) for beta!  
> If you like this, check out my other fics, and my website for original content.

####  Chapter 16

Catherine sat upon the top of the staircase and watched after each of The Rumples favoured collection slid down the banister, or tumbled off depending on what it was and how its weight was distributed. 

“You’re going to really piss Rum p le off, you know.” came the voice of The Beauty, who stood below the banister doing her best to catch the things that fell. 

“Oh yes, that's the idea, Beauty,” Catherine said, a venom in her voice that she couldn't seem to shake. It had been 10 days since she left The Hatter’s and she thought that after so long she’d experienced all the pain that could be had. Then she learned at the hands of The Rumple that you can always return hope and happiness for just long enough to really enjoy it and then simply tear it all away leaving nothing but bone and blood in its wake.   
“I’m sure he didnt mean for that outcome to be the case,” began The Beauty. Again. She’d attempted the same argument since she realised that she was sharing her dwelling with an angry Cheshire Cat, who had taken to property damage, making things disappear and on the odd occasion covering all the toilets in plastic wrap.

“Oh yes, of course,” Catherine paused, the glass jar filled with pointed ears in some vile looking fluid bouncing from one hand to the other. “He accidentally let The Hatter know that I was of the nature to make things disappear at a time that he  _ knew _ I had recently hidden a library book.” She punctuated the sentence by rolling the jar down the banister with more force than usual, her tail thrashing behind her. 

Having paused to catch the jar of ears and cringe at the contents, The Beauty allowed Catherine growl in impotent rage and kick the suit of armour down the stairs while it flailed to keep its balance. The Beauty watched as the suit fell apart at the base of the stairs and sighed. 

“There’s nothing I can do to change what he’s already done, but perhaps Jefferson, or Emma and Killian will listen to me?” The way The Beauty suggested it seemed as if she knew it wasn't going to work and she knew the futility of even asking in the first place. 

Catherine stared down at The Beauty, who would, nor could, never understand and with all the force she could muster without magic, Catherine threw the basket of The Rumples trophies over the banister entirely and screamed at the top of her lungs until she had no breath left and made herself incorporeal to hide the tears of pain and frustration from view. 

Only The Rumple could see her, so she could weep in peace. To think that she thought that she could have it all. To have family and the interest of The Hatter. But that charming, slightly bent mad man hates The Evil Queen, quite right, and The Cheshire Cat. Not that Catherine could have prevented things from happening the way they had, and she’d done everything in her power to help him on his journey.

She’d wandered the mansion that The Rumple had managed to acquire for himself and The Beauty and used her nails that were magically sharpened to rip the canvases for every painting that she passed. She’d broken every cup and saucer and bowl and plate that had been placed in front of him, both there in the mansion and at Grannies. She’d taken to shattering all the glass in the antiques shop and br e aking every single one of the walking canes he ever got the chance to use, but not until he was walking along and actually leaning heavily on them.    
She’d sat up all night incorporeal , singing repetitive songs in his ear and any time he’d get close to dropping off, she’d switch to screeching at the top of her lungs.   
She’d finally managed to get tired enough to actually sleep last night and had curled up upon the roof in the quiet snow fall and when she’d gotten up had found that The Coward had fled the property. Rather than hunting him down, she’d decided to destroy his trophy collection, the ones that he’d tricked people into giving him one way or another. Wording with that man was like balancing on a knife, and oh! How Catherine  _ wished _ she could take back all the years of friendship. Then she wouldn't have been as let down by the man's behaviour as she was. She wouldn't have been so trusting in his words. Wouldn't have allowed herself the faith in him that she had. 

Catherine decided to pour all his expensive colognes down the sink and fill each with toilet water. Magically of course, there was no way she was going to touch the toilet or its water. 

Halfway through dumping the pungent smells down the sink, she heard the doorbell ring.

Perking up, she quickly up ended all the bottles into the basin and skipped out through the mansion and down the corridor to the top of the stairs. 

The  B eauty had already opened the door and there, on the other side of the door, was none other than The Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is the breakfast of champions!  
> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for bookish merch and news on my upcoming novel “Once Upon A… What?” 
> 
>  
> 
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
> Instagram - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://www.instagram.com/kat_henshaw/)
> 
> Twitter - [@Kat_Henshaw](https://twitter.com/Kat_Henshaw?s=09)
> 
> Facebook - [Katherine Henshaw Author](https://www.facebook.com/KatherineHenshawAuthor/)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debut novel “Once Upon A… What?” available 29th Jan, 2019!  
> Subscribe to my website to be notified when it’s available.  
> Merch now available.  
> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)

*Peaks out from behind the curtain* *sees that you have noticed me* *awkwardly steps out onto the stage*  
  
Ahem. 

You see, it started with a thing... *plays with shirt hem* and it ended with this story needing to be... *takes deep breath, looks anywhere but you* onHiatusduetobookreleaseandholidayseason. *heaves sigh*

 

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. (Wrong fandom, ZombieCyborg *eyeroll*)

 

I promise I will not forget this story, I really wont. I thank you for being with me on this and enjoying the stories so far.   
  


Lots and lots of Love,   
  
ZombieCyborg xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)
> 
>  
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**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, subscribe, and check me out on my socials for news on my upcoming novel!
> 
>  
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